


flower bed

by hellchoirs



Series: why storms are named after people [8]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Dubious Consent, Forced Prostitution, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Manipulation, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24606796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellchoirs/pseuds/hellchoirs
Summary: It was on the news. Reginald was dead. There would be a funeral, of course. Maybe Klaus could go- if Robert let him, of course.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Original Male Character(s)
Series: why storms are named after people [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760482
Comments: 146
Kudos: 310





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the bad things happen bingo prompt: not used to freedom.  
> This is part of a series, and the forseeable final instalment, of 'why storms are named after people', and so I highly suggest you read those first in order before this! 
> 
> The fic description may change, I am unhappy with it lol, so head's up.   
> As always, warnings in the end notes.

Consciousness filtered through to him slowly, just enough slipping into his grasp for him to be able to be aware of the fingers stroking through his hair and the drone of the television. He shifted slightly, an attempt to get more comfortable in his position curled up on the couch with his head in someone’s lap, and the hand in his hair stopped briefly.

“Morning, dear,” drawled a voice, and Klaus hummed pleasantly in response, his eyelids slipping shut. The hand resumed its action of running through his hair, lulling him nearly back to sleep. He only just managed to remember that the person had said morning to him. He doubted it was the morning, but he had no time frame, really. He couldn’t remember when he shot up and couldn’t tell how long he’d been asleep for.

Klaus forced his eyes open again, blinking blearily at the dim room around him. It was dark outside the windows, had it been dark before he shot up? He couldn’t remember and it didn’t really matter. The hand was still in his hair, running from the top of his head down to where his hair ended around his mid-back. The other hand was held between his own. He couldn’t remember grabbing it, but he smiled slightly, fixed his grip to hug it close and press a gentle kiss to the bruised knuckles there.

“Awake this time?” Asked Robert, voice pleasant and slightly amused. Klaus huffed an answer. When Robert ran his fingers back through his hair, he couldn’t help but shiver.

“Been out for a while,” Robert told him, ducking his head down close to Klaus’, lips hovering by his ear. “Sleep well?”

Klaus nodded once the words had processed in his head. He always slept well after shooting up; he didn’t think anyone could get more restful sleep in the world without it. It seemed impossible – nothing could beat it. And with Robert, stroking his hair and holding him whilst he slept? Even better.

Their fingers interlocked together and Klaus’ eyes fluttered shut, only for a moment, but when he opened them again it was even darker in the room and he had shifted positions a little. He felt slightly more awake than any of the other times, his vision a little clearer and head a little lighter. He slid his hand out of Robert’s to place it on the couch, making an attempt at pushing himself up, and at the movement Robert helped him upright, though Klaus still slumped heavily against his side.

Tucking hair behind his ear and over his shoulder, Robert smiled at him. “You feeling alright?” He asked, and Klaus hummed, resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his torso. Robert chuckled slightly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I- I like when you play with m’ hair,” he murmured, tongue heavy in his mouth, and in response Robert ran his fingertips along his scalp.

“I know you do,” he chuckled softly. “You practically purr when I do that.”

Klaus huffed a gentle laugh, melting against him. “Feels nice,” he said, and the hand kept twirling his hair, running through it, and his eyes slipped shut again.

When they opened, his legs were pulled over Robert’s lap, feet tucked under a blanket, and he was curled up against his chest. He could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath his firm chest and he listened to it, let the sound soothe him for a while, and then he turned his head slightly, casting his gaze over to the television and focusing on the noise coming from it. News, he thought. How boring. He turned his attention to the heartbeat again, and the way Robert enveloped him with his arms in a tight embrace.

It was nice; incredibly nice, to just be held like this, even if his wrist dug into a bruise on his skin and his hips always ached and this position didn’t much help; the lingering high helped to numb it all.

It was nice until Ben started calling for his attention.

Frowning, Klaus was tempted to simply ignore him and drift back to sleep, and it would be very easy to do so, but something he said caught his attention.

“Klaus, Dad is dead- it’s on the news, look-“

Klaus shifted slightly, forcing his heavy head up to turn it to the television. When his eyes finally focused on the television, sure enough it showed a picture of his father, and he caught the tail end of the reporter discussing a death by a heart attack.

“You okay?” Robert asked, stroking his shoulder, and Klaus slumped back against his chest.

“ ‘s- that’s my Dad,” he said, blinking at the television. “ ‘s my Dad- he’s dead.”

Robert was quiet for several moments, idly fiddling with Klaus’ hair, and then he says, “I think it’s getting late. We should go to sleep.”

He shifts, grabbing the TV remote to turn it off, and then he coaxes Klaus up onto his feet and guides him to their bedroom. Klaus slumps into the bed, already only in his underwear, and waits for Robert to join him so that he can curl himself around him, head resting on his chest, one leg slipped between his. It was achingly quiet in the apartment until the sound of Robert’s soft snores filled the room, and despite being tired, Klaus found himself staring at the wall, thoughts running.

Ben slipped into his line of sight.

“Heart attack, they said.”

“Huh,” he murmured, keeping his voice low to not disrupt Robert.

“Think they’d have a funeral?”

“Pogo and Luther would want one,” he said, running his fingers idly over Robert’s stomach and frowning. “Think we should go?”

“I think you should go,” Ben corrected. “By yourself. It’d be nice to just see everyone again, huh?”

Klaus shifted slightly. Both he and Ben held their breath when Robert did too, waiting to see if he had woken up. He hadn’t and they both relaxed again.

“But- I could introduce him to everyone,” said Klaus, hopeful.

“You know none of our siblings would like him,” Ben muttered, and Klaus deflated. Diego would be over-protective; would see the bruises and assume the worst, and Luther had a tendency to act-first, think-later. It would take a long conversation to get them to understand, and Klaus wasn’t sure he even knew how to explain it, so he settled on telling himself Robert wouldn’t like meeting new people.

“Think he’d let me go?” Klaus asked. Ben stared at him for several moments before he shook his head silently. Klaus, again, deflated slightly, frowning and looking away. “I’ll talk to him,” he declared. “He’ll understand.”

“He’ll understand,” said Ben. “But he won’t care.”

Klaus gave Ben a look. With a sigh, Ben shrugs, and so Klaus closes his eyes, ending the conversation.

In the morning, over a joint, he throws out the suggestion.

“It’s just- they’ll have a funeral, and I should go, y’know?” He said, watching Robert cook breakfast. “We should go. Together. I can introduce you to everyone.”

Robert had his back to him. Klaus couldn’t see his expression and he didn’t like that. He couldn’t tell what Robert was thinking.

“It’d be one night-“

“No.”

Klaus frowned. “It’d be maybe, two, three hours at most,” he said, watching Robert at the stove. “And-“

Robert whirled around so fast Klaus flinched, immediately biting his tongue. “I said no,” he repeated, and then plated his breakfast and walked into the living room. Klaus shared a look with Ben before following.

“I’d have to take time off work, and I can’t do that right now-“

“I could- I could work more,” Klaus offered. “Pick up more clients, yeah? And- more a day, to make up for it. I could do it, and it’d be fine.” He sat down on the couch and reached for his hand. Robert moved it to grab his fork just before he could touch it.

“We can’t take more clients right now. There are no more to take.”

Klaus frowned, chewed at his thumbnail and took another hit of his joint. “I, uh… I just- he was rich, and we could just go in, talk to Pogo about inheritance, and we wouldn’t have to work another day in our lives- we’d be loaded, and-“

Robert put the fork down and turned to face him. Once more, Klaus couldn’t help but flinch and recoil, especially when his hands came up. But then he simply cupped Klaus’ face, giving him a soft look.

“Baby, it isn’t safe out there,” he said, “you know that. It’s risky enough to go out on the walks we do and- I don’t know what I’d do if I let someone hurt you.”

Ben scoffed loudly.

Klaus melted under the touch. He lifted his free hand up to cover one of Robert’s and leaned into the touch as Robert stroked his cheek.

“We can’t go,” said Robert. “I’m sorry. I care more about you than some money.”

And, well, Klaus couldn’t argue with that. Sighing, he simply nodded, and closed his eyes when Robert leaned in to kiss him.

“Good,” he said, parting, “I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is.”

“I know,” murmured Klaus, a little disheartened at not being able to see his siblings again, but understanding where Robert came from. Robert tugged him slightly, urging him closer, and then he stabbed a piece of bacon on the fork and lifted it to Klaus’ lips.

They couldn’t go to the funeral, but at least Robert substituted it by putting one of Allison’s movies on. She was really the only sibling he knew anything about, besides the book Vanya published and the fact that Luther went to the moon. He could watch her interviews and read the magazine articles about her, and of course watch her movies, but the others were impossible to keep track of. It was still disheartening, but Klaus curled up on the couch with Robert, watching the morphing figure of his sister on the television, his pupil’s blown wide.

He didn’t pay much attention to Ben when he said something before slipping out of the apartment, one of the few times he dared leave Klaus alone. It was only in the time between the end of the movie and Robert putting on the next one that he realised Ben had gone to the funeral himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: drug use, implied/referenced abuse, implied/referenced prostitution.
> 
> So, here we are, at the canon-timeline. I'd love to hear any thoughts and feedback if you have them!:)


	2. Chapter 2

Even before Robert, Ben hardly left Klaus’ side. He did at times, of course, whenever dealing with Klaus and his self-destructive tendencies just got too much for him to deal with and he needed a break. Klaus was a handful, and watching him throw his life away with drugs was hard for him, and sometimes he simply needed to distance himself; go for a walk, mutter expletives without Klaus giving him rude looks or being insulted by them, even if all Ben wanted was to get his point across to idiot of a brother.

Only, Ben would never call him an idiot again now, since Robert seemed to like calling Klaus stupid and dumb too.

He had liked Robert at first; of course he had. He had been one of his better, arguably the best, relationships, even if he had been a bit odd when Klaus didn’t realise it. Ben learned not to be picky with Klaus’ relationships; often times it was a choice of the lesser of two evils. Ben would rather Klaus date someone who like to watch him sleep, no matter how weird it was, rather than date someone who liked to knock him around.

Unfortunately, now he was dating both.

Ben wasn’t convinced Robert had acted so nice to Klaus on purpose. It was hard to believe that he could be so nice and then all of a sudden he turned into the monster he was now. No, it had been slow and deliberate; words that weren’t so nice, but not bad enough that they raised many red flags. Touches that were unnecessarily rough, not letting Klaus leave, encouraging his drug habit to get even worse, and then touching him when he was too high to do anything. Ben warned Klaus of the weird things he did, but still; he was nice enough that the nice outweighed the weird.

Ben hadn’t realised how much Robert had gotten into Klaus’ head until he hit him. Klaus had stayed with people who had hurt him before, but he had always known that it was wrong and unfair, but he had put up with it because he had to. With Robert, Klaus didn’t put up with it; he accepted it. He justified it, albeit poorly. And it just kept getting worse and once more Ben could do nothing but watch Klaus all but wither away in front of him and accept all the abuse.

Klaus had gotten into many bad situations, but Ben thought that this might be the worst. He had come close to death multiple times before, but those times had been accidental. If Robert went far enough to kill Klaus, or even told Klaus to kill himself; Ben wasn’t so sure Klaus wouldn’t accept or do it, and that scared Ben.

Although Ben couldn’t do anything to actually help, he would still stick around and do what he could. He’d give Klaus a heads-up if he had a client; if Robert had left for work and told Klaus to do something, he’d remind him to do it before he got him; if Robert snapped, Ben would tell Klaus to hide his fingers so he couldn’t stamp on them and break them. It was the most Ben could do.

So when he left for the funeral, he was filled with anxiety. He had gotten to know Robert a bit, though; gotten to know his patterns and how he worked, and it wasn’t likely that he would hurt Klaus too much; he had no reason to, so long as Klaus didn’t keep pestering him about the funeral, though it wasn’t likely he would. If anything, Robert would probably just dope him up even more and Klaus would be out of it for hours.

It was daunting to return to the Academy, but he pushed through any apprehension he had, instead focusing on the voices in the living room. He was likely the last to arrive, considering he had to walk all the way from the apartment to the Academy and had waited until Klaus had fallen asleep before leaving. Sure enough, when he walked into the living room, he faltered in his steps when he saw everyone in front of him, sitting around.

Allison was there, and Luther, of course, along with Diego and Vanya.

“Well, it’s obvious he’s not coming, and we can’t wait any longer,” said Luther, shaking his head.

“There’s no chance he wouldn’t jump to see Dad’s ashes and make sure the old man was dead; he’ll be here,” said Diego. “And if this is so important, then you should wait for him.”

“We’ve waited an hour,” said Allison. “Klaus isn’t coming.”

“Shouldn’t have expected any different,” muttered Luther, looking disappointed in himself for thinking Klaus might even show up. “I needed him to talk to Dad.”

Diego looked… Ben couldn’t tell. Partly disappointed, partly upset, partly mad and partly worried. He always had worried over Klaus on the streets, until it got too much for him too, but even if he and Klaus had parted on bad terms Ben knew Diego still worried about him. Rightfully so, Ben thought, and he settled down on the chair next to Vanya, unseen and unheard of.

It never got much easier, seeing his siblings be so oblivious to his presence, but he learned how to deal with it, muttering his unheard comments throughout the meeting and mentally noting things to tell Klaus. He didn’t want Klaus to keep pestering Robert about coming here if it ended up with Klaus getting hurt, but Ben wouldn’t let an opportunity to get Klaus help pass so easily by. He knew his siblings didn’t think so highly of Klaus, but surely any of them would take one look at him and know something was wrong. They’d be able to help more than Ben could, too, and physically intervene.

Klaus might hate him for it for a while, but Ben would hate himself more if he just watched Robert beat him to death.

Everyone seemed to be generally disappointed with Klaus’ absence, putting it quickly down to drugs, but he saw Diego frowning over it and he could only hope Diego knew something was wrong. Klaus might put drugs above everything else (besides Robert now) and he didn’t care about Reginald whatsoever, but it didn’t make sense for Klaus not to come and leap on the opportunity of getting a shit ton of inheritance money. That should be obvious, Ben thought. He just hoped at least one of the others thought so, too.

Either way, Klaus wasn’t discussed further than what Ben caught at the beginning of the meeting, and he was quickly forgotten about too for the sudden appearance of another one of their siblings.

* * *

When Five leapt forwards in time into the apocalypse, he found three bodies. At first, he hadn’t known that they were his siblings, honestly. Just a lucky three who weren’t completely obliterated by fire, or whatever had destroyed everyone else, but he had raided their bodies for anything he might be able to use for himself, and in doing so he ended up seeing the Academy tattoo on Diego, and then on Allison, and- not on Luther. Something had happened to Luther’s body. It was easy to identify all three of them immediately, but then that posed the question; where are the others?

He never found Ben, he never found Vanya, and he never found Klaus. Ben, he learned later, had died years prior, so that accounted for his absence, but there was no explanation for Vanya and Klaus’ absence. Arguably, he could put Klaus’ down to an also early death, likely from an overdose, but it would have had to have happened after Vanya published her book, for he was still alive then. Arguably, Vanya hadn’t made it because she didn’t have powers and was more vulnerable, and he thought that was most likely; couldn’t imagine her dying before then in any other situation that wasn’t an unfortunate accident.

So when Five managed to return his siblings, it was with the idea he would possibly only see three of his siblings; hopefully four.

And, well, four is what he saw.

Luther, Diego, Allison and Vanya. Better than three at least.

He noticed Ben’s statue, and so, with the idea that Klaus had died, he wondered where one might be for him. Reginald might not have cared about Klaus and would have been disgraced that he had died from drug use, if he had, but he still would have made something to commemorate him, even if it wasn’t something as extravagant as Ben’s statue (though it ended up destroyed.)

So, as they all settled down in the kitchen and he got settled, getting food and understanding the date, mind running with his plan of what to do next, he let his gaze roam over everyone and then he asked, “where’s Klaus?”

“Didn’t show up,” said Luther, and Five paused, staring at everyone. As far as they were aware then, Klaus was alive; he just hadn’t come. Five couldn’t blame him for it, of course, especially with the shit show that had happened and how Vanya’s book made him out to be unreliable and to hold drugs as his first priority over everything, but one would think a homeless drug addict would be eager to get their hands on their inheritance. It’d certainly buy Klaus’ a lifetime worth of heroin, at least.

Five came to save them all, though. So, he would simply have to make a point of tracking Klaus down at some point, and ideally sooner rather than later. It seemed he wasn’t the only person trying to do so, either.

Diego was stood near one of the back doors, just around the corner from Five, and talking in a hushed voice. Five intended to leave too, but he lingered just long enough to hear Diego asking Pogo about updates on Klaus.

Reginald might not care about them, but he still had records of all of them, and according to Pogo the latest one they had on Klaus was from 2018, following an overdose that landed him in hospital, and one he was signed out of quickly. Beyond that, though, they didn’t have anything on him.

Pogo apologised and left, and as Diego opened the door the head outside, Five rounded the corner.

“Going to go harass a hospital now?” He asked, and Diego startled. How Diego managed not to be snuck up on while doing his poor vigilante-gig was beyond Five.

“What?” Diego asked dumbly, and Five gave him a look.

“You were talking to Pogo about Klaus,” he stated, shrugging, and he peered around outside. He had elsewhere to be, and he was pleased to see his van sitting in the alleyway, and so he returned his attention to Diego. “Going to go ask which rehab centre they dropped him off in?”

Diego shifted slightly, lips pursed. “No,” he lied, and Five snorted.

“Well, if you find him, bring him back to the Academy. I need to talk to him.”

Diego eyed him curiously, but he didn’t ask questions, which Five was grateful for. With that, Five turned and jumped to his van. He couldn’t save Ben, but he’d see if Diego could find Klaus and he would make sure he could save him, at least.

Not that Ben would ever blame Five for his death, but he had seen the way he looked at his statue during the memorial, before and after it had been destroyed, but Ben had no way of telling him that.

With a sigh, Ben turned down the alleyway, walking past the man standing by the dumpster and staring up at the Academy, and began the walk back home.

That night felt like one of the longest ones of his not-life, sitting in the living room and waiting for Klaus to wake up. By the time he and Robert do stumble out of the bedroom, Klaus is evidently already high with a dazed look that tells Ben whatever he is on is to dumb him down a bit, and the mess of his hair coupled with the noises he had forced himself to ignore also tells him that he is right to hate Robert, because the chances of Klaus even being aware of or remembering them doing anything in the state he’s in is slim.

Robert walked off to the kitchen to make breakfast for himself, and Klaus staggered on the spot until Ben stood up and walked over. “C’mon,” he murmured, “come sit down, Klaus.”

Klaus’ eyes didn’t quite focus on him, but he nodded and followed Ben so that he could fall onto the couch.

“Klaus?” He said, inching forwards to stare at his brother, trying to gauge just how high he was. “Klaus, look at me please.”

Klaus pursed his lips and pried his eyes open, looking around the room before finding Ben, and he wiggled his fingers in a lazy wave before he slumped over.

Klaus used to say he did drugs simply because they felt good. Ben wondered how good it could feel when it rendered him like this; breathing shallowly, pale and clammy, doubled over because he could hardly hold himself upright. Ben would never understand, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Klaus, I went to the funeral last night,” he stated, and Klaus blinked and then hummed airily.

“Your… fun’ral was ages ago,” he drawled, and Ben sighed, deflating.

“Dad’s funeral,” he stated. “Remember? He died. Robert wouldn’t late you go to the funeral, so I went to see how everyone else was.”

“Ooooh,” Klaus mused, dropping his hand over the edge of the couch to rest on the floor. “Do I- get money?”

The conversation was going to go nowhere, Ben realised with a sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face, and his irritation only spiked when Robert came over, sitting beside Klaus, who immediately all but fell against him.

“Klaus,” said Ben again.

“Mhmm?”

“No, don’t- don’t talk, Klaus, just listen, okay?” His eyes flicked to Robert’s amused face, staring down at Klaus. “I went to the funeral and everyone was there- Luther, Allison, Diego and Vanya, right? Don’t talk. But something weird happened, and Five came back, Klaus. He got stuck in the future for decades, he said, and he came back. _Five’s back_.”

Klaus laughed softly, voice wobbling. “ ‘saw a ghost,” he said. “ ‘cause Five’s dead, huh? He’s…” Klaus waved one hand in the air. “Not here. Poof- disappeared at dinner.”

Ben sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Robert snorted, running his hand down Klaus’ back. “You’re talking nonsense, baby,” he said. Klaus huffed, and Robert had to reach a hand up when he began to tip forwards, pushing his shoulder to hold him up. “How about you just go back to sleep, huh?” Robert suggested, and Klaus hummed, his eyes already closed. Robert set him against his side, holding him in place with an arm around his waist, and then Klaus was out like a light.

Ben turned his gaze to Robert and it hardened into a glare. He was determined to get Klaus to listen to him, but doing it whilst he was this high was pointless.

With a sigh, Ben settled on the chair and just continued to glare at Robert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this, feel free to let me know in the comments! I love hearing all your feedback, and a massive thank you to everyone who has been following this series:)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a reference to vomiting.

The moment Klaus could focus on what Ben was saying, his brother all but attacked him with an onslaught of news. 

Robert was in the bathroom and Klaus was lighting a joint as Ben rambled on and on about the funeral. “Everyone was alright though, right?” He asked, keeping his voice hushed, eyes flicking over to the bathroom door.

“Everyone’s doing fine,” confirmed Ben. “I mean, Luther’s pretty paranoid, but he’s fine. But Klaus, Five came back- he’s alive. Still looks thirteen, he was walking and talking to everyone else. Not a ghost, not dead.”

Klaus hummed, pursing his lips and staring thoughtfully at his joint as it caught the flame of the lighter. He let the tip catch on fire, burning away the excess skin before he blew it out slightly and took a drag. “Just fell out of a portal-thing?” He asked, and Ben nodded, pursing his lips.

“Yup. He said to Diego that he wanted to talk to you, and Diego’s trying to find you.”

“Huh,” Klaus murmured. It’d be nice to see Diego again, but he wasn’t sure how much Robert would appreciate him turning up on his doorstep; he hated surprises. He did want to see Five too. 

“The others might not be around the Academy,” Ben told him. “But Five has nowhere else to go. Maybe you could convince Robert to let you go if no one else will be there, and you can talk to Pogo about inheritance and run into Five.”

“Might work,” Klaus murmured. “It’d be nice to see Five.”

Ben smiled sadly, nodding his head. “Yeah, it would be.”

“What’d he say?” Asked Klaus, sitting back in the chair, and he listened pleasantly as Ben told him about the funeral and about his siblings, even when Robert came back out, pottering around the house. When Ben finally finished, Klaus turned to Robert, ready to try his and Ben’s new plan, but he faltered when he saw him pulling his jacket on.

“Where- where are you going?” He asked, frowning. 

“Got called into work early,” he said, coming over and resting a hand on his cheek. “Someone called off so I’m going in. I’ll probably be back late.”

“Oh,” Klaus murmured, faltering and glancing at Ben, who shared his equally helpless expression. “Can you not stay?” 

“Unfortunately not,” said Robert, stroking his cheek. “But I’ll be back before you know it. Go take a bath, relax, you’ll be fine.”

“But-“

Robert leaned forwards, cutting him off with a kiss, cupping his jaw. Klaus frowned as they parted, but he said nothing as Robert ruffled his hair and then left, door locking behind him.

“I bet he’s not going to work,” muttered Ben, shaking his head. “He just said that so you couldn’t ask to go out.”

“I doubt that,” Klaus scoffed, standing upright and steadying himself against the couch before continuing on to the bathroom. He gave a look at Ben. “Are you gonna watch me bathe?” He asked. Ben rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going to watch, but I want to talk.”

“Pervert,” muttered Klaus, but nonetheless he didn’t say anything to Ben when he came into the bathroom with him and settled on the floor, looking away from Klaus as he ran the bath, stripped and sat inside.

Last week, Robert bought him some new bubble bath mix because his ankle twisted during- not an argument, but when Robert needed to de-stress and Klaus could help him with that. It still hurt, but his limp had gone now. He added a generous amount to his bath, smiling at the scent of apples that filled the bathroom, and then he sunk lower into the bath and turned his head to look at Ben. His brother had pulled his knees up to his chest and was staring at the wall opposite himself.

“You’re brooding.”

“What? I’m not brooding.”

“Yes you are. You always are.”

Ben glared at him. “I just- you don’t understand, Klaus.”

Klaus frowned, turning his gaze down to the bubbles and running his fingers through them. “Are we really going to have this talk again?”

“No,” Ben sighed, “because I know you won’t listen. I just want you to stay safe, and I’m mad you couldn’t go to the funeral.”

Klaus shrugged. “I mean, I’ll ask him when we get back. Maybe we can go tomorrow? Plus, giving him time today might help him think about it.”

Ben slumped, looking away. “Maybe,” he murmured, not looking hopeful. He looked tired; very tired, especially for someone who didn’t need to sleep. Klaus wondered what he might be thinking for a moment, but decided he probably wouldn’t like to know- he rarely did, these days.

Instead of talking to Ben, he turned his attention to his bath. He liked this; it made him feel pampered, being able to wash his skin and make it smell like flowers, having multiple steps to keep his hair healthy and smelling nice. It made him feel a bit better about himself.

He stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist and then using another one to twist his hair in it, balancing it atop his head, and then he wandered into the kitchen with Ben on his heels. As he combed through the place, he could hear Ben mutter an occasional careful whenever he was moving dishes or glasses, anything that could fall and smash. Klaus had long since learned his lesson about breaking anything, but it didn’t mean his hands weren’t any steadier. 

“You should make something,” Ben said. “Not, like, cook or anything, I don’t think that’d go well, but a sandwich? Maybe?”

“I’m an excellent cook,” Klaus huffed, looking through the refrigerator. 

“You’re also high and can’t stand still.”

“Minor inconvenience,” he dismissed, waving one hand, but nonetheless he took his brother’s advice and made a sandwich, picking at it for a while until it was gone. His appetite was practically non-existent and he hardly ate unless Robert was urging him to do so, but sometimes he either actually managed to do it himself or Ben would nag him enough. He wiped the crumbs off the bed before sitting pulling his knees up to himself and looking out the window. Quietly, he asked, “everyone was alright, though?”

“Everyone was fine,” Ben reassured him once more. “I think Diego was happy to see Mom again.”

Klaus laughed a little, chewing his thumbnail. Diego had always been the closest to Grace, even when they grew up. He wondered if he visited her at all. She must have been lonely when Luther went up to the moon; lord knows Reginald wouldn’t have spoken to her, and he doubted Pogo would have much either. He’d like to see her again too, he thought. Maybe she’d make him cookies; maybe she’d compliment his hair and they could talk. He liked Grace, of course, but then she had simply stood and watched as Reginald took him to the mausoleum, and she would offer him hot chocolate upon his return as if that might get rid of the redness to his eyes and the rasp to his voice, and it felt like insult to injury and he distanced himself.

Now, though, he thought that maybe one of her hugs would feel nice.

He threw on a pair of sweatpants and pulled his hair down from the towel, letting it fall down his shoulders, and he absentmindedly combed his fingers through the wet curls.

“What’re you thinking?” Ben asked, glancing back at him, and Klaus shrugged. 

“Wanna go outside, I guess,” he finally settled on. He couldn’t quite name what it was he was feeling, some odd kind of longing. A walk might help, he thought.

“He took the key,” murmured Ben.

“I know.” Klaus rested his chin on his knees, staring down at the city streets below him and watching people as they walked past. It looked like a nice day outside, too. Typically, Klaus was too high to appreciate it. Klaus heaved a sigh, turning over and he opened the drawer of the nightstand by the bed, fishing around in it.

“Klaus?”

“Mhmm?”

“Maybe you should… leave it, for a while.”

Klaus hummed. “Don’t think so,” he said, glancing back at Ben. There was a steady-growing itch beneath his skin and it was really a shot in the dark trying to decide which drug he was craving out of the multitude he was hooked on, but he didn’t have to deal with the cravings if he was unconscious, he decided.

“You just smoked,” said Ben, watching him hold a spoon over a lighter.

“And it was lovely,” Klaus commented, watching as the thick liquid in the spoon began to bubble. He held it carefully, forcing his hands to be as steady as they could to not spill a drop, and then he transferred it to into a syringe that he may or may not have used before. “But I have nothing better to do.”

“Literally anything other than shoot up.”

Klaus clicked his tongue. “So boring,” he murmured, distracted by setting up the syringe. He looked around the place, hurrying to fish a belt out of the closet and tugging it around his bicep, using his teeth to tighten it and make the veins in his arm pop. Without another glance to Ben, he slid the needle into his skin and pushed down on the plunger.

“Lay on your side,” murmured his brother. Klaus tugged the now-empty syringe out of his arm, fumbled to loosen the belt, and then promptly passed out. If nothing else, he had made it onto his side. He was still in that position when he woke up, too. Good thing, too, because it appeared he had thrown up the sandwich he had eaten. He had no recollection of that, but it was typical of him to wake up repeatedly for short periods of time and not remember later.

At least most of it had gotten on the floor rather than the bed.

It took him several tries to shove himself away, falling instead onto his back.

“I don’t like the batch you got.” His brother’s voice cut through the pleasant haze in his mind. “It fucks you up more than usual. Throw it out.”

“Mmm, ‘s a waste of… perfectly good heroin,” Klaus uttered breathily. 

“Waste of a life if you OD on it.”

“Sound like Dad.” 

“You’re going to have to clean that up before Robert gets back.”

Klaus waved a hand in the air. “Mhmm.” He knew he ought to do that, and he ought to do it before he fell back asleep. So, with a groan, Klaus heaved himself up- fell- caught himself, and began to roughly tug the cover he’d thrown up on off the bed. It took him longer than it should, his movements uncoordinated and weak, but eventually he did it, and then he moved on to cleaning the floor, with Ben snapping him back to reality whenever began to drift off again.

By the time he was done, he was hardly half conscious. With Ben’s insistence, though, he grabbed the blanket on the floor and dragged it into the kitchen to throw it into the washing machine. As soon as he started it up, he sunk down onto the ground, trembling, leaned against the machine and almost instantly fell asleep.

He was woken to hands on his arms lifting him up. He fell against the person, knees buckling, and let them carry him through the apartment until he felt a mattress beneath him. He cracked his eyes open, looking up at Robert’s face in the dark room. 

“Hey there,” said Robert, smiling. “What were you doing on the floor, huh?”

“Uh… cleaning,” he said, “sleeping.”

Robert chuckled. “Yeah, I got that bit,” he murmured jokingly, stroking a hand down his cheek. “Sick?”

“Mhmm,” Klaus hummed, bobbing his head in a nod. “Cleaned it, though. ‘s fine.”

“Thanks,” said Robert, running his hand through his hair and then he urged Klaus onto his back. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there for, but Robert returned to him. He threw a new blanket onto the bed, covering Klaus, and then he joined him underneath it and pulled him closer. 

“How… was work?” He asked, blinking up at him. 

“Fine,” Robert said. “Busy. But I’m back now.”

Klaus hummed happily, resting his head on his chest. 

“Ask him about tomorrow, Klaus,” said Ben, somewhere to his left, and he peeled his eyes open again. 

“Rob?”

“Mhmm?” Robert ran a hand down his back, following his spine down to where his sweatpants hung off his hips. 

“I was, uh, thinking, right?”

“Okay?”

“Maybe- maybe we could go to the Academy tomorrow?” He suggested. “Listen- listen, please, it’s just- the inheritance! Dad was a rich bastard! And it’s been a while since the funeral, and I know you don’t like meeting new people, so there’ll be no one home. We can go, and just- talk to Pogo, and come back, yeah?”

Robert stared up at the ceiling in thought, expression unreadable, and Klaus pushed himself upright to look at him. “In and out,” he promised. “Real quick.”

He turned his head to look at him as if scrutinising him, and Klaus smiled hopefully. After too long passed, Klaus slipped over to straddle his hips, arching his back to press their chests together. “Please? It’ll be so quick, and I’ll be so good,” he added, pressing a kiss to his neck. 

Robert heaved a sigh, curling his hand around the back of his neck. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll go tomorrow. Quickly.”

Klaus grinned, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly. “Thank you! Thank you, it’ll be worth it, I promise.” 

Robert hugged him back, still looking a little distracted, meanwhile Ben looked ecstatic, and Klaus fell asleep feeling as giddy as a child. Maybe he’d see Five and Grace; he’d like that, he thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun chapter next, no doubt:)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in the end notes.

Klaus’ breakfast, not for the first time, consisted of vodka. 

He lost count of how much eventually, but it was enough to have him fuzzy-headed and stumbling. He liked to imagine that he had built up a tolerance for just about everything, but he found that a surprisingly little amount of liquor went a long way on him. It was almost shameful; he used to be able to drink people under the table. 

They woke up early to get ready. As Robert finished putting the dishes from his own breakfast away, Klaus sat on the floor in front of the mirror in the bedroom, shakily smudging eyeliner around his eyes even worse than usual, considering he had to steady himself with one hand and the other one was shaky and uncoordinated. 

“You look like the poster boy for why you shouldn’t do meth.”

Klaus snorted, glancing briefly at Ben. “It doesn’t look too bad, does it?” He asked, squinting at his reflection in the mirror. With a sigh, his brother shuffled forwards. He tapped Klaus’ reflection. 

“Clean it up here,” he said gently, and Klaus made an attempt at tidying the eyeliner up a bit. 

“You feeling okay?” He asked. 

“Mmm… bit sick,” he admitted, blinking at the mirror.

“Vodka at six in the morning would do that to you.”

“Pogo won’t give me anything if I’m high.”

“Won’t give you anything if you’re drunk, either.”

“Also,” said Klaus, turning to look at him. “I don’t do meth.”

“You did it for, like, two weeks straight.”

“And never again!” Klaus exclaimed. “I learned my lesson. Don’t fuck with meth.”

“And I’m glad.” Ben said. “So, instead; you look like the poster boy for why you shouldn’t do heroin.”

“That’s more accurate,” quipped Klaus, sniffling. As much as he wanted to hopefully run into someone at the Academy, he also hoped it would be quick; withdrawals were setting in rapidly and in a few hours it would be torture without another hit. He tried to be positive, though, and instead focused on the way the alcohol in his system made the world a bit of a blur.

He stood up, using the wall to help himself, and staggered over to Robert. “We going?” He asked, grinning at him. Robert glanced aside, lips pressed together as he looked Klaus up and down. He danced aside, coming back with a coat and a scarf, and began to wrap the scarf around Klaus’ bruised neck. He pulled the coat onto Klaus too, hands curled into it as Klaus swayed. 

“No one will be there?” He asked, and Klaus hummed, shaking his head.

“Shouldn’t be,” he said. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

Robert didn’t look so convinced. He stood for several moments, holding Klaus by his coat, tense. He only moved when Klaus lifted a hand to touch his cheek; he grabbed his wrist, holding it in the air, and Klaus’ hand fell limp in the grip, smile faltering a little. 

“We-we don’t have to go,” he hurried to say, “if you’re stressed, or whatever, we can stay, but I’d- I’d like to.” 

“I know,” he said, idly turning Klaus’ wrist. “You need to brush your teeth,” he said. “You smell like vodka.”

Klaus blinked, a little taken aback, but then he nodded. Robert didn’t let go of his wrist, though, and so he simply stood there dumbly, waiting for something to happen. He tugged his hand back a little. “Robert?” He asked quietly. 

Finally, Robert let go of his wrist and nodded to the bathroom, and with a little hesitance Klaus stumbled his way over to it. He leaned heavily against the sink as he made an attempt at chasing away the smell of alcohol on his breath, wincing when his grip on the toothbrush slipped and he jabbed his gums or cheek with the brush, and when he was done he stumbled back to Robert’s side and let his lover wrap an arm around his waist to steady him.

It had been a month or so since their last walk outside, and just as always Klaus was eager to get out and feel the air on his clammy skin, to walk through the streets and slip into the bustle of the city, even this early on in the morning. 

Robert had to keep his arm wrapped tightly around him to keep him steady, his balance constantly failing him and having him drift to the side or stumble over his own feet. Being drunk was pleasant, but he much preferred being high over it- not that it rendered him much more functional at all. He wasn’t sure the walk from their apartment to the Academy did him many favours, either; with how little he actually left the apartment, he found himself tiring quicker when he did actually get out, body so unused to walking any long distance, or walking much at all. If nothing else, at least the alcohol helped the walk feel shorter than it actually was.

It was an odd feeling, to be back on the steps of the Academy after so long. He took a moment to simply look at the building looming over himself, looking at the Umbrella Academy logo on the doors, and he inhaled and turned to Robert, smiling. “You good?” He asked, squeezing his arm and then holding on when he swayed. Robert glanced from the doors to him, lips pursed, then he nodded. 

“Come on, let’s just get this done quickly.”

Klaus clapped his hands together, nodded, and then slid his hand back into Robert’s to guide him up the stairs and indoors.

Robert had insisted that they come early in the morning to further slim the risk of running into anyone else. Klaus knew Pogo ought to be awake at this time, as would Grace. Luther might be, and he would assume Five, who ran on schedules and organisation as if he might die if a second of his day was unplanned, would also be waking up around now, at the very least. Then again, if what Ben had said was true, perhaps Five’s dedication to schedules had changed in the past however-many decades his brother had been around for.

He had never been very close to Luther, especially not the last few times he had seen him before he’d gone to the moon and Klaus had moved in with Robert, but maybe it’d be nice to see him again. Ben seemed eager for Klaus to run into him, too- although Ben seemed eager for him to run into anyone.

Nonetheless, when they stepped inside, there was nobody downstairs. Klaus took a moment to look around, but it was evidently too early for anyone to be having breakfast at the moment, and Grace was elsewhere. He tugged Robert’s hand and guided him towards the stairs. They’d check around Reginald’s room first, he supposed; Pogo might be sorting through his stuff since his death. 

Honestly, Reginald’s death had slipped his mind up until now. He only remembered it because he realised had Reginald still been alive right now, he would have been yelling at Klaus for his intoxication already.

Klaus shoved open the door to Reginald’s office and, sure enough, there was Pogo, standing by his desk and sorting through paper. He turned when the door opened, opening his mouth to greet who he probably thought was Luther, and then he froze. “Master Klaus…” he said, trailing off as he looked him up and down.

“Just the guy I wanted to see!” Klaus grinned, stepping further into the room and schooling his expression. Subconsciously, he leaned further against Robert as if he could leech some confidence off of him to replace his carefully constructed façade. 

“It is… good to see you here, Master Klaus,” Pogo murmured, turning to face them. His hands clasped together on the head of his cane and he looked between he and Robert. “And you are…?”

Klaus opened his mouth to introduce him, but Robert cut him off. “Nobody,” he said, smiling. “Nobody important.” He offered a laugh, and Klaus frowned at him, although he knew Robert wasn’t fond of meeting new people so he brushed it off.

Pogo hummed in the back of his throat, turning his attention to Klaus. “We wondered why you might have missed your father’s funeral,” he commented, quirking one eyebrow, and Klaus flapped a hand to dismiss him.

“Oh, you know… things. Work. Work things; couldn’t make it, but I wanted to. Wanted to say my goodbyes to the old man.”

Robert nudged him in the side, and so Klaus cleared his throat. “Anyway, anyway; uh, dear Daddy is dead, so, I had to come by and just, you know, check my status on the good ol’ inheritance plan, huh? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, right?”

Pogo pursed his lips, not looking exactly disappointed with him but not at all surprised. “Of course,” he uttered. “Unless you can prove yourself to be sober and in good health, then I’m sorry to say that it is being held. At your father’s request, of course.”

Klaus’ face fell. “What? I mean- of course. Good thing I am both, right?”

Pogo sighed, shaking his head softly, and began to shuffle towards the door. “I’m afraid not, Master Klaus.” He paused in the doorway, turning to look at him and then at Robert for several long moments. “But I do hope that day comes soon,” he added, and then turned and left them.

“This was a waste of time,” declared Robert, taking a step onto the corridor, and Klaus made a noise as he followed after him.

“Not entirely!” He defended. “It’s nice to get out, right? And- oh! Look, look,” he tugged his hand, urging him to follow him instead. “I could- I can show you my bedroom, that’s cool, right? Come on.”

Sighing, Robert allowed him to do so, and Klaus eagerly led him to his old bedroom as if it was a sight to behold; the scrawled writing on the walls, the hazard of lights and candles, the scorch marks on his dresser, the stains on his floor, the exposed brick from the wall he’d knocked down between his and Vanya’s room.

He stood in the middle and spread his arms out with a grin, and watched as Robert sat down on the bed and looked around, disinterested. Heaving a sigh, Klaus wandered over, stepped over his legs, and sat down on his lap. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, running his hands through the short hair on the back of his head. “The inheritance thing- I know, I know, but we can just take a ton of shit instead, if you want? This coat has a lot of pockets. We can take trophies and ornaments and shit, and I’ll- look more sober next time, huh?”

“Let’s just go home,” he said, resting his hands on Klaus’ hips to push him back, urging him onto his feet.

“So- so fast?” Klaus stammered, throwing an uncertain look at Ben, but his wrist was already in Robert’s grasp and he was stumbling out of his bedroom and towards the stairs again. 

“We only came for that,” Robert reminded him, glancing at him from the corner of his eyes. “Right?”

“Yeah,” murmured Klaus, “ ‘course.”

He fell silent, shrugging helplessly at Ben as they headed back to the door, pausing just by it for Robert to narrow his eyes and pat his pockets. 

“I left my phone in your room,” he sighed. “Stay here, okay?”

Klaus tipped his head to the side, watching Robert retreat up the stairs. He moved to lean against the wall, sighing and looking to Ben.

“Came too early,” he murmured, “no one’s awake.”

Ben looked furious. Klaus grimaced and decided it was best not to say anything else, so he simply kept his mouth shut and waited. He didn’t have to wait all that long for something to happen; there was movement in the kitchen, and then someone stepped out, calling, “Klaus?”

He lit up, pushing himself off the wall. “Allison!” He called back, and began scurrying over to his sister. She hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at him with surprise first, and then her eyes narrowed and she looked him up and down, lips parting. Klaus didn’t notice; as soon as he was close enough, he threw his arms around her in a hug.

Of course, she looked as beautiful as she did in every movie, television show, interview, photoshoot or magazine he had ever seen of her; even more beautiful, actually, to be able to see her in person. Gently, almost hesitantly, she returned the embrace, her hands resting on his arms. 

“Hey,” she said, frowning. “What’re you doing here? The funeral was two days ago, Klaus-“

“Oh, I know, but you know how it is- work, and stuff,” Klaus huffed, exaggerating a frown. “But hey! Look at you! Oh, I love those shoes!” He exclaimed, squeezing her arms gently and grinning widely at her. 

“Don’t you think your scarf would go with her shoes?” Mused Ben, sliding up to their sides and raising his eyebrows innocently. Klaus glanced at him, but he couldn’t see any other intentions on Ben’s face other than making a simple statement, and then he thought it over. He was right. So, his hands went to the scarf, holding it up.

“They’d go with this, don’t you think? Look, look-“ he pulled it off from around his neck, reaching out to wrap it gently around hers, mindful of catching her hair in it. He took a step back to admire his handiwork and then he nodded. “Looks much better on you, of course. Who’s surprised?” He joked, but Allison didn’t smile. She lifted a hand to touch his neck with her fingertips, although the touch was so light it was almost non-existent.

“Klaus…” she murmured, voice quiet.

“Tell her you’re here with your boyfriend,” Ben urged. Before he could, however, another person was stepping out of the kitchen; Luther. Ben hadn’t lied when he had said he had gotten big. Klaus blinked up at him with wide eyes, and he was almost glad he wasn’t high right then- god knows how his mind would have taken Luther in that moment. 

“Klaus,” he said, voice as firm as it ever had been. “What are you doing here?” He asked, and then he faltered, looking at Allison and back at Klaus. 

“Oh, you know; had to sort some things out,” he said, “look at you, though! Love the overcoat, buddy. Shows off the muscles, eh?” He winked at a shocked looking Luther before turning back to Allison.

“Klaus,” she said again, “what- what happened to you?”

“Huh? Oh!” He lifted a hand, twirling his hair around his finger. “I grew my hair out. Isn’t it nice? It looks like yours- oh, oh, we could do each other’s hair,” he blurted, excitement bubbling over. He didn’t notice when Allison reached out a hand to steady him because he was swaying so hard. “I mean, yours has a lot more volume, of course, mine is so flat, but it’d be fun- like old times?”

“Klaus,” said Ben, “tell them Robert made you drink before you came. Tell them you’ve not been outside in a month. He’s coming, Klaus-“

Sure enough, Robert was making his way down the staircase, faltering at the sight of Luther and Allison by Klaus, but then he recovered and approached much quicker. Despite the way Ben deflated, Klaus perked up; opening an arm for Robert to slide against his side.

“This is my boyfriend, Robert,” he said, excited, and he turned to look up at Robert. “You know Allison already,” turning to Allison, “we watch all of your movies! You’re so talented! And, oh, this is Luther, of course, and-“

Robert ducked his head, mouth by his ear. His hand pressed down into his side. “We’re leaving, Klaus,” he murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. “Now.”

Klaus blinked. “Oh. Uh, well, I guess-“

Robert was already urging him to the door.

“Wait,” called Allison, hurrying after them. “We’re having a family meeting soon- Diego and Vanya and Five should be here soon. You should stay, it’s important.” She glanced at Robert and forced a smile. “Both of you, of course.”

“No thanks,” said Robert, squeezing Klaus’ hip when he opened his mouth. “We’re actually busy.”

Allison eyed them, but Robert left no room for further conversation; he turned and pulled Klaus towards the door, and Klaus turned to wave at his siblings over his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon!” He called, and then he was on the street. 

Robert said- well, not a word, actually, as they walked back. He kept his hold tight on Klaus, kept their pace painfully fast for Klaus’ tired legs, all but marching them back to their apartment.

“Klaus,” murmured Ben, keeping pace with them, “be careful, okay? When you get inside, and- cover your head.”

“What?” Klaus murmured back, confused. 

He should have seen it coming, really. He did, but only after Robert slammed the door closed and locked it.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, turning on Klaus, who was midway through tugging his coat off and setting it aside.

“What?” He asked, confused. 

“We weren’t going there to talk to anyone, Klaus,” Robert said, running a hand through his hair and pacing. 

“I just- I know, but they came out to see me, first, I didn’t know they were-“

A hand was around his throat. Klaus made a noise of surprise, stumbling backwards with Robert until his back hit a wall. “And you took your scarf off,” he said, “and gave it away- how stupid are you?”

Klaus blinked, holding onto his wrist as his grip tightened. “I- I didn’t-“

Robert was not an angry person, per say. Stressed, sometimes, but never angry, and least of all angry with or at Klaus. At a particularly violent client sometimes, but not Klaus himself. He was gentle with Klaus, until he needed a firmer hand, but that didn’t come from a place of anger.

Well, now he looked furious, and this new expression on his face terrified Klaus. He was saying more things, but Klaus’ ears were ringing and the words didn’t quite process for him. Then there was an ache in his knees and he was on the floor, gasping, and then he was on his side and his head was swimming. 

“Klaus, cover your head-“

Sluggishly, he did as Ben was pleading him to do, and it was fine, he told himself. Sometimes Robert needed to do this, and it was always better for the both of them in the long run; saved tension from building and bubbling over.

Usually, though, it seemed to have an end in sight. 

This time, it just kept going. Klaus tried to reason with Robert, tried to catch his hands, but then his wrists were held to the side and he couldn’t even try to cover himself anymore, and then there wasn’t much more he could do but lay there.

He really was stupid, he supposed. He had known Robert hadn’t wanted him to talk to anyone, and he had gone and done that. He should have seen Allison and just gone up to Robert, or waited outside. Robert never asked much from him, and Klaus could hardly give him even that. He had just gotten so excited to see his family again, especially Allison, since he had been rewatching her movies over the past few years and was the only one he could see in any form, besides Ben, and he had acted so stupidly. 

At least, he thought, Robert wasn’t leaving him. He could have just left him on the streets. And at least this meant that Robert just needed to get his stress out, and he would be fine with him later on; take care of the bloody nose and bloody lip and the gash by his eyebrow. And Klaus had learned his lesson, too. 

Finally, finally, the blows stopped, when Robert was panting and his own knuckles were bloody. He stood up over Klaus, staring at him for a moment, and Klaus was just conscious enough to watch and listen to him as he walked over to the television and- began grabbing all of Allison’s movies.

Pathetically, Klaus tried, and failed, to push himself up off the floor. “Wha’re- wai’, wai’-“

Robert strolled to the window overlooking the alleyway by their apartment building, filled with overflowing dumpsters, trash and rats, his arms full of his sister’s movies, and something akin to desperation lit up in him. “Rober’- please, don’- don’ do i’, please- ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, please don’-“

The movies were thrown out of the window, followed quickly by every magazine, and he even tore some up before throwing them out. Klaus made a noise at seeing his sister’s stuff discarded, but beyond making noise, he couldn’t do much else. He fell from his side onto his back, and there he remained as Robert ignored him and busied about the apartment; washed his hands, changed his clothes into his uniform, ate leftovers from the fridge. Only when he was done did he come kneel down by Klaus’ trembling form to rest a hand on his head, holding it in place, so he could kiss his cheek. 

“I’m going to work,” he murmured, voice low. “Think about what you’ve done, yeah? I want the blood gone when by the time I get back and we can take a bath after and talk this out, and we can move on.”

Klaus whimpered when he stroked a hand through his hair, trapped beneath his body and his head aching as it was, but he managed enough energy to nod. Satisfied, Robert stood up, and as if nothing had ever happened, he went to work, and Klaus remained on the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: implied/referenced drug use, non-graphic violence.
> 
> I don't see much of Allison and Klaus bonding in fanfics, but I need more of it.  
> Feel free to let me know your thoughts!


	5. Chapter 5

Diego had always been the closest to Grace out of all of them, and so when Luther implied that Grace had to be shut down? He was furious. Anger was an easy emotion for Diego and even easier when his brother was Luther, who seemed to know just how to press his buttons and always went out of his way to do so.

How Luther could be relatively okay with shutting their mother down, Diego truly had no idea. If she was having software issues, then they should check in on her; try to help her, somehow; not just shut her down. And if she had killed Reginald? Good on her, he thought. It was impressive that she had managed to hold out for so long, if anything. Reginald never treated any of them well, and Grace was no exception to that; Diego understood that. Had she not killed him, he might have been tempted to in the future.

Grace was their mother. She was more than a hunk of metal pieced together by Reginald, acting solely on his programming. He might not know how she thought or felt about things, but Diego knew that, without a doubt, she did think and feel things. He saw it in the way her face and her body twitched when her programming restricted her from doing what she wanted to; saw it in her eyes whenever she looked at her children when they were upset; saw it in the little things she did to try and make them happier. Grace might be restricted by her coding in some ways, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to do more. Diego knew that.

But over a decade of being alone, watching her children drift away one by one and never come back to visit- it must have taken its toll on her. Was it fair to keep her conscious if she was stuck in some distorted loop of reality?

The conversation left Diego deeply disturbed, by Luther’s own words and his own doubts. Of course they couldn’t just kill their mother. Of course not.

Maybe it was simply kinder, though.

Diego did not want to be angry with Luther; not really. They had been close once, years ago when they were younger, but Luther was so brainwashed and ignorant of their father’s abuse that he was willing to remain complacent even when Reginald did something so drastic to his own body – Diego might not know what, but he knew it was undoubtedly Reginald’s own doing and that Luther was not happy with it – and it infuriated Diego. He still loved his brother on some level, and it was painful to have Luther stand in favour of their father and his abuse on his siblings and on himself.

Sometimes he feared just how far Luther was willing to go for Reginald, and that scared him.

Nonetheless, he could hardly stand to look at his brother as the meeting neared its end, and he was eager to leave and find Grace, perhaps to comfort her, even though she was likely entirely oblivious to the whole discussion, but before he could, Allison spoke up again.

“There’s something else,” she said, before he and Vanya can make their way to the door. He turned, clenching his jaw.

“What is it now?” He asked, not making any attempt at hiding the bitterness in his tone, but Allison didn’t even flinch.

“Klaus was here this morning,” she announced, and that made him pause. He froze for a moment, surprised and confused by the sudden announcement.

“What?”

“Klaus came by early this morning to talk to Pogo,” she repeated, and the words finally sunk into his head.

“Where the hell is he now?” He asked, frowning. They had been so adamant about waiting to find Five before making this family decision that they should have waited for Klaus if he was elsewhere in the Academy.

“He left,” said Luther, and Diego raised his eyebrows.

“He just left? You knew about this family meeting and you just let him leave?”

“I asked him to stay,” Allison drawled, giving Diego a look. “I told him we were having an important meeting, but he was here with someone else and they left immediately.”

“Who was he with?” Vanya asked, curious, and Allison frowned.

“Said it was his boyfriend,” she murmured, and her hand ran over the scarf draped loosely off her shoulders, as if she was almost hesitant to wear it. “I think something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Diego, and his anger abated slowly to that worry that Klaus never failed to get from him. He was probably the closest to Klaus out of all of their siblings, had seen him the most outside of the Academy, and no matter how angry Klaus also never failed to make him, he could never not be worried for him; even when Klaus would crash at his place, strung out and high as hell, and then leave with Diego’s wallet and the liquor in his cabinets, Diego would always end up more worried than angry.

“He looked bad,” said Allison, “and his boyfriend didn’t seem so… nice.”

Diego gave her a questioning look, urging her to go on, but it didn’t take a genius to fill in the blanks, and it wasn’t that surprising either. Diego had seen Klaus with enough bruises from ‘relationships’ that he simply put up with because he got something out of it. A relationship for Klaus that didn’t rely on what almost seemed like business transactions of drugs, sex, power and submission were rare, and to find a person that held Klaus’ best interests at heart amongst the kind of people he hung around with was almost non-existent.

Diego had gone to the hospital earlier, managing to get access to Klaus’ records with a flash of a fake police badge, and in doing so he had managed to find the address he had gone to after his last overdose last year. (At least, thought Diego, the last _hospitalised_ overdose.) It might be too good to imagine, but if Klaus was dating someone that he brought to the Academy, then perhaps it was a long relationship and he was still staying in that apartment.

He had meant to check the place out quicker, but with the shootings at Griddy’s and Gimbel Brothers, he had gotten sidetracked.

He hoped, suddenly, that he wouldn’t come to regret that.

“I found his last known address,” he stated, “I was going to go check it out soon.”

Allison nodded at that, and that was really all he needed to know that she was worried for their brother.

He would see Klaus soon, then. As soon as possible, but first he had to check on Grace, and it wouldn’t take long.

Unfortunately, it still took longer than he had expected; not dealing with Grace, but with the fact that shortly after the meeting two people broke into the Academy. He was the first to encounter them, running into them in the corridor by their bedrooms, and he only just managed to miss being shot at.

It had been a long time since any of them had worked together as a team, but now they managed to slip seamlessly into that dynamic once more. As Luther took on the larger opponent, he and Allison found themselves taken on the other one together.

It was easy to work with her. A tiny gesture or look was all he needed to know what she was thinking or planning; and sometimes they didn’t even need that. He could see when Allison needed him to jump in, and he could see what she was trying to do and he could adapt to follow her lead and back her up without getting in her way. Their teamwork had the woman retreating, albeit with a pen-knife in the back of her leg, and then they were chasing her back up and into the living room just in time to catch sight of Luther getting the upper hand over his own opponent, although he looked worn down.

He was both a little surprised, a little angry and a little afraid to see Vanya hanging around Luther. Vanya was vulnerable and defenceless; she couldn’t hold her own in a fight with these guys, and she could have very easily been hurt or killed.

A part of Diego knew that it didn’t much matter whether or not she had powers. Ben had arguably the strongest powers out of all of them and he still died. Perhaps that was the problem, though- his powers were too strong, even for himself.

He couldn’t help but lash out at her, and part of it might have been that pent up anger over her book slipping in, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care at the moment. He lashed out, and was only calmed by the distraction of Luther shoving him aside to avoid the chandelier that would have crushed him otherwise.

The whole day had left him reeling continuously; the conversation about Grace, the worry for Klaus, the fight, which turned out to be people looking for Five, and then the revelation of just what Reginald had truly done to Luther- it was a lot. He took a moment, as Luther retreated upstairs, to think over everything, trying to figure out what to do now.

He should check on Grace, he thought. Make sure she hadn’t got caught in the fray.

He almost wished he hadn’t.

Grace was entirely uninjured when he found her, sitting contently by her portraits, humming to herself and sewing. He approached with a frown. Surely she shouldn’t be so calm right now, with the Academy being broken into.

“Mom?” He said, coming to her side and looking down at her. She remained sewing, not turning to look at him. “Are you okay?”

A smile spread her lips and her eyes burned through him. “Of course I am,” she said.

“You didn’t hear the noises?” He asked, frowning. “The guys in the masks that just shot up the house?”

Finally, Grace met his eyes, and she laughed. “What are you talking about, silly?” She asked, amused, and then she turned her attention back to her sewing. Diego’s eyes followed her gaze to the item in her hands and he sunk down onto the chair beside her.

Grace was completely oblivious to the needle she tugged through her skin; her pleasant humming picked up again.

The sight of his own mother hurting herself while so oblivious to it hit him like a punch to the gut, and he couldn’t help but wonder about her software degrading like Luther said. He exhaled shakily, looking back up to the blank expression on her face, and then slowly he sunk to his knees in front of her, watching closely for any reaction although he got none.

Surely, this was cruel. It was cruel the moment all of them left without a second thought to how she might cope with her children leaving her in this empty house all alone, and it was cruel now, to leave her in this state like this. How bad would it get? Would there come a day where she wouldn’t even recognise who she was looking at? Where she was stuck in some loop of unintentional self-harm?

He wouldn’t forgive himself, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if in two years Grace was standing by a stove fire she had accidentally set herself and wouldn’t move away from it. He would just have to hate himself for this later.

With great care, he slipped a knife out of its holster, and dragged it across the skin of her forearm to reveal wiring beneath. Finally, he got a reaction from her; she lifted her head slowly to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing?” She asked as he pulled back the panelling of her arm. Her body twitched; her gaze going elsewhere and distant. Diego couldn’t bring himself to respond; there was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest and he knew that if he dared talk he would just burst into tears. He narrowed his eyes against the hot burn of tears in his eyes and he clenched his tense jaw against his shaking breaths.

As he brought the blade to her wiring, he forced himself to look at her. She was still smiling, and Diego’s lip quivered.

“It’s gonna be o-“ he inhaled sharply, voice cracking, words tripping up as his tongue tied itself up in his mouth and his stutter returned full force. The least he could do was reassure her, for what it was worth.

Grace did not pick up on his crying. “Remember what we worked on,” she told him, “picture the word in your mind.”

Grace had always been there to help him with his stutter as he grew up; had always known how to help him get the words out until he hardly ever stuttered, and she had always been so excited for him, as if his ability to pronounce a word correctly was a personal achievement of hers. She had always been so happy for him.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he repeated, voice trembling, “M-Mom.”

He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and he blinked through blurry vision to look at the wiring in her arm to disconnect it. He had to force himself to do it, glancing back at the thread pulled through her skin to reassure himself that this was the right decision, and his chest felt painful with a mix of self-hatred, guilt and grief.

Her arm fell limp on her lap. Diego watched as her eyelids fluttered as if she was losing consciousness; her smile dropped off her face and she began to slump. And, to his horror, she began to speak.

“Di…eg-go…” She slurred, voice whirring. “Re-mem… ber…”

And she was gone. Her head fell and her eyes flashed blue multiple times before turning incredibly dull, all traces of life gone, and Diego dropped his head and screwed his eyes shut.

Finally, he sobbed.

He left the Academy once he had composed himself partly, and he found himself wandering aimlessly, feeling numb and lost. Diego was not one to reach out to anyone, not one to think about his emotions or discuss them, but in this moment he found that he could not stand being alone with himself after what he just did, and there was only one person he could go to, even this late at night.

He hovered on the porch to Eudora’s apartment complex, torn about whether he should try and buzz in to talk to her, but it turned out she made that decision for him. As he was sat on the stairs, the door behind him opened.

“What are you doing here?”

Her voice cut sharp through to him and he had to close his eyes, for somehow being spoken to simply made a new wave of emotion rise up in him when he thought he had gotten himself together.

There was a sigh, and then Eudora was coming close. She was dressed comfortably, obviously just headed out to grab something quickly, or for some air perhaps, and obviously did not count for running into anyone, least of all Diego. Nonetheless, she still sat down on the stairs next to him.

“What’s up?” She asked again, scrutinising him.

“How’s all the paper work coming along?” He asked, for a moment backing out of the idea of confiding in her, but his voice was hoarse and his eyes still red and she saw right through him.

“It’s a real page-turner,” she stated, going with his need for a distraction, but the softness to her tone told him she was worried. “I’ve got two guys in children’s masks, rare bullet casings, a random fingerprint from a 1930’s cold case, and… I just learned that the tow truck driver from the donut shop doesn’t have any family.”

“The boy,” muttered Diego.

“Not his, apparently. Kid’s our only possible witness and he’s a complete mystery… we’re going to try and find some more stuff in the morning, but that’s then. What are you doing here, Diego?”

Diego inhaled deeply, staring at his hands. “Nothing, I just…”

“Talk to me, Diego,” she urged, and so he did.

“My Mom,” he uttered, voice trembling. “She died.”

“Shit,” Eudora breathed. “I’m so sorry, Diego. I remember how close you were. Is there anything I can do?” She asked, and Diego- didn’t know. He didn’t know how to deal with this, didn’t know how to deal with what he felt, and he told her as such; but Eudora knew him. She reached out, resting a hand on his arm and stroking it gently.

He allowed himself to take the comfort she offered, closing his eyes for a moment. He appreciated it, but he wasn’t one to work through things like this; he needed a distraction, and he had plenty of other things to worry about. He needed to find Five, of course, but Allison was likely waiting to see if he would come back at night, so he would wait until the morning before doing that in case he did turn up on his own.

He had put off finding Klaus for long enough now.

“I- my brother, I think he needs help,” he said, opening his eyes and glancing at Eudora.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I- don’t know, really, but something’s wrong with him and I know it. I found out somewhere he might be staying, and…”

“I’m not breaking into a house with you, Diego,” Eudora said, giving him a partly amused look. Diego shook his head numbly.

“I’m-I’m not, I just…”

Eudora sighed, staring at him in thought before ducking her head slightly in defeat. “Is the place close?”

“Twenty minutes away.”

Rising to her feet, Eudora tugged him up too. “I’ll drive. Come on, we’ll go check in on him, okay?”

Diego suspected she was only doing this because of the news of his mother’s passing, but he appreciated it nonetheless. He would have gone to look for Klaus with or without her, but her presence offered some comfort and he just needed that in this moment.

Diego told her the address he had found, and Eudora drove to it. “Why do you think he’s in trouble?” She asked, and Diego ran his fingers over one of his knives.

“He didn’t come to my Dad’s funeral,” he stated, “he’s not… reliable, but he wouldn’t have missed that. He would have at least come to try and get money. My sister… she said he came by early that morning, but said that he- he looked bad, and he was, uh, with a boyfriend she said wasn’t- nice. I just want to check on him.”

Eudora nodded idly, picking up on all of the silent implications. She parked outside of the apartment block, one that was on one of the shadier streets of the city, that they could just walk into. Diego led the way up the stairs until they could find the door number that he had found, and he simply stood in front of it for a moment, an odd pit of anxiety in his stomach.

Chances were that Klaus was long gone from this address, but it was worth a try. He raised his hand and rang the doorbell. Several minutes passed without an answer, and so he knocked again.

“Maybe no one’s in,” Eudora suggested, frowning, and that was probably the case, but Diego had learned to trust his gut, and his gut would not let him leave this place without looking inside. So, much to Eudora’s displeasure, he picked the lock. It was as easy to do as breathing, although he didn’t even need to do that, and the door slid open for him with hardly much resistance to reveal a dark apartment; no lights on, no sound, nothing. Except.

Diego flicked the light switch and stepped inside.

“Klaus?” He called, cautious.

“Diego, come on,” Eudora murmured, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Diego had the feeling that he knew exactly what was waiting for him around the corner despite not knowing at all.

For a moment, Diego thought that though they had not found Klaus, they had stumbled upon another sight of domestic abuse, or even some junkie’s den, because curled up on the floor was a skinny, small form with long hair splayed out around them, hiding their face from view. But there was a towel in their limp hand, and their breaths came in an audible wheeze.

Diego exchanged a look with Eudora, slowly approaching the person. They were unresponsive to both of them trying to talk to them, but when Diego rested a hand on their bony shoulder, they let out a groan.

“’m cleanin’,” the man slurred, voice hoarse and quiet, and their fingers curled into the towel that Diego now noticed was stained with blood, along with the floor, as if the person had made a half-hearted attempt at mopping it up but had passed out before they could actually do anything.

Gently, Diego rolled the person onto their back, and honestly, he did not recognise him for several moments. Face gaunt and skinny, dried blood covering his face where he had fallen into the small puddle on the floor, and from his nose and his mouth and a gash on his forehead, along with the multitude of dark, still-forming bruises on his face; Diego did not recognise him at all until he opened his eyes, even half-lidded, and he was met with the unmistakable green of Klaus’ eyes that Diego would recognise anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the break in updates; I've been busy staying with and helping my grandmother, so they may be slow for a while. Thank you for being patient, and thank you everyone who has commented and given a kudos to this story!


	6. Chapter 6

“Shit- Klaus?” Diego gasped, eyes widening as he stared down at his brother, half-conscious on the floor and already slipping onto his back again. He mumbled incoherent things that he couldn’t quite get, lips moving; his wheezing breaths came out louder than whatever it was that he was trying to say.

“Diego?” Said Eudora, kneeling down on Klaus’ other side, her knees just out of reach of the dried blood on the floor.

“It’s- it’s Klaus,” he stammered, and he was just frozen. He had not seen Klaus for years and this was most certainly not the reunion he had anticipated. Allison had been write when she had said that Klaus looked bad, although perhaps the blood smeared across half his face and the dark, dark bruises- _everywhere_ \- made him look even worse, but nonetheless, even overlooking that (which was hard to do) Diego didn’t doubt Klaus looked horrible. He looked like some of the corpses he’d seen in the deepest corners of drug dens he’d been in. If not for the audible rasp to his breaths and the way his eyelids fluttered in his struggle to stay conscious, Diego would think he was dead, and had been for hours.

“Diego, we have to get him out of here,” Eudora said, jolting him from his thoughts. He looked up at her, then back down at Klaus, and he nodded. Now wasn’t the time to get stuck in his thoughts. He reached forwards, then paused, hand frozen in the air. He didn’t know how to so much as touch Klaus without hurting him, unless he was lucky enough to be too out of it to really feel it. Gently, he rested his hand on the cheek not covered in dried blood and patted it.

“Klaus, come on,” he said, “you need to get up, okay?”

Klaus grunted and made no move to get up. He rolled his shoulder slightly, a poor attempt at getting off his own hair trapped between himself and the floor, but otherwise didn’t do anything else.

“You’re probably going to have to carry him, Diego,” Eudora stated, “I don’t know how we’ll get him down the stairs.”

Diego pressed his lips together, but she was right. There was no way Klaus was going to walk himself down the stairs to get outside, and they didn’t know how long they had until Robert got back. As much as Diego wanted to stand in the doorway until Robert returned so he could put Robert in worse a situation than Klaus was in, he didn’t want to leave Klaus like that much longer.

So, biting down the flood of anger that surged within him, he took one of Klaus’ wrists and draped his arm around his shoulder, coaxing him up into a sitting position that drew a groan from him. He slid one of his arms beneath his knees, and then he braced himself. As expected, as soon as he stood, pulling Klaus up off the floor, his brother let out a choked sound, squirmed in protest, and then he turned his head, leaned slightly away from him, and threw up. Diego narrowly avoided getting any of it on his shoes and grimaced, determinedly looking away. Klaus dropped the towel from his hand, curled his other hand into Diego’s shirt, and let his head rest against his chest, stopped squirming.

“’s okay,” he breathed, voice shaking. Eudora hurried forwards to hold the door open for them, and Klaus didn’t seem to realise when Diego took him towards it; he simply continued to mutter reassurances, as if Diego was the one who was hurt.

They hurried downstairs, Diego carefully taking the steps to make sure he didn’t trip up and send himself and Klaus sprawling down them. Eudora opened the door to the backseat of her for him, and it was a struggle to manoeuvre Klaus inside, and then he followed him in whilst Eudora went to the driver’s seat.

Relieved at being out of that dark apartment, Diego allowed himself to look past the roaring in his ears to listen to what Klaus was saying.

“Like bein’ outside,” he breathed, slumping over on the seat, trembling body held up only by Diego’s hands. “Thank you, but’… ‘need to clean… sorry…”

“Klaus?” He said, reaching out to cup his cheek again. “Klaus, it’s me. Look at me, Klaus.”

His brother hummed, low in his throat, and leaned into Diego’s hand slightly, but he didn’t open his eyes. Diego wondered if he even could, or if they were swollen shut- he couldn’t yet quite tell, what with the blood and the bruises and the poor lighting and the mess his hair was.

“We need to take him to a hospital, Diego,” Eudora said from the front seat, looking at him in the mirror hanging above her. Diego paused, hand squeezed Klaus slightly in thought, but the little noise of pain his brother made jolted him quickly back to the moment.

“He hates hospitals,” he stated. Grace could have helped him, had Diego not killed her. He grit his teeth against that thought and told himself that _no_ , actually, Grace might not have been able to help him with how badly she was degrading.

“Diego,” Eudora repeated, voice firm. “We don’t know how bad it is.”

“Eudora, please,” he said, voice slipping into a pleading tone, “he hates hospitals.”

He saw the way her jaw clenched, and she eyed him for several moments in the mirror before looking at Klaus, then back to the road. “Fine,” she said, in that familiar tone of hers, some distance fondness still left over for him, perhaps. Or maybe it was simply because Eudora was a good person, no relation to Diego himself. He thought that was more likely. Eudora wasn’t doing this simply because Diego asked her to; she was doing it for Klaus.

He was hardly much more coherent by the time they reached Eudora’s house; wheezed and moaned when Diego manoeuvred him out of the car, but didn’t protest or complain. He laid him out on the couch in the living room and Eudora disappeared into the bathroom only to return later with a small box full of simple medical supplies.

“Take his shirt off,” she told Diego, helping to hold Klaus upright, “I want to make sure he’s not broken any ribs.”

Swallowing, Diego did as told, and then both he and Eudora grimaced, looking away. Diego wondered how long Klaus had been on the floor for, his bruises already well-formed and dark, all painful looking. He startled when Eudora began to prod tentatively along his chest, following the prominent lines of his ribcage, although with how skinny Klaus was, he thought she could just look for a broken rib.

“I think they’re just bruised,” Eudora muttered after a moment, and then she shuffled up, perched on the edge of the couch, and began to gently comb through his hair and touch around his head until she found a spot that made Klaus flinch away.

“I’ll- get water,” Diego said, feeling useless, and he hurried into the kitchen to fill a basin with water, grabbed a towel, and brought it all back to Eudora’s side.

At the very least, all the poking and prodding, combined with the wet cloth dabbing at his face, seemed to rouse him a little; he reacted a little more, though stayed compliant and uncomplaining. He was coherent enough to squint at Diego and frown and say his name in confusion.

“You’re okay,” Diego uttered, his throat feeling tight with a variety of emotions, none of which he wanted to deal with. He wiped at the blood stuck to the corner of Klaus’ mouth. With Klaus seeming willing to talk, Diego wanted to jump on the opportunity to demand answers; to hear him say that Robert did this, although Diego had no doubt at all that it was him who did this to his brother- but Eudora knew him like that, and so she nudged him and gave him a look.

“Later,” she hissed under her breath. Diego didn’t want to leave it until later; he had already left it too damn long, evidently, and the quicker Klaus told him where Robert was then the quicker he could go and beat the shit out of him for doing so to his brother.

“Wha’re you doin’?” Klaus asked, his words slurring together. Eudora combed through the last of his hair, now all completely clean and no longer matted together, before standing up and heading into her kitchen again. When she returned, she had another towel, this one wrapped around a bundle of ice that she held out, pressing it against his cheek. They were going to need a lot more ice, Diego thought. Klaus reached up a shaking hand to take it from her and moved it against one of his eyes, sighing a little in relief.

“Helping you,” said Diego, voice deceptively calm- he put it to his years of getting used to dealing with Klaus in bad situations, albeit he wasn’t not sure he’s ever seen Klaus this bad before.

“Mmm,” Klaus hummed, slumping back into the couch, “where’s Robert?”

Diego pressed his lips together. “I was hoping you’d tell me that,” he said, and Klaus shrugged his shoulder not pressed into the couch. “Klaus, where-“

Eudora nudged his knee, giving him a look. Diego inhaled slowly, forced himself to just look at his brother, and, well- it didn’t exactly help, what with how terrible he looked and knowing someone- his own boyfriend- did this to him, it made anger surge up inside of him, made him want to walk out the house right there and hunt Robert down, but he forced himself to acknowledge that Klaus came first. He could go after Robert once he knew Klaus was- as okay as he could be.

How long had Klaus even been with him for? A year, at the very least, but he looked as if he’d been wasting away for years. With that thought, Diego suddenly realised that Klaus was probably coming off of- anything, really, although the bruises (different to the rest) and scars on the insides of his arms told him enough. He was both sweating and shaking, and he had one arm wrapped around his stomach, the other still holding the ice to his face. He would probably be difficult to talk to even if he wasn’t half-conscious and beaten half to death; even if he didn’t look as if he had spent the past few years in the deepest corner of some dingy crack house.

“How are you feeling, Klaus?” Asked Eudora, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Can you talk to us?”

Klaus hummed, opening his eyes to look at her and then over her shoulder, staring at a point for several moments. “I’m okay,” he murmured, and his voice was hoarse. “Can I go home now?”

“Not yet,” said Eudora, sounding more apologetic than she probably felt. “Can you tell me what happened? Is there anywhere else you’re hurt?”

Klaus paused in thought, frowning, and he shrugged, a small and uncertain movement. “Nothing,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the air, and then he began to move; shoved off their hands and shuffled to the edge of the couch where he made an attempt at standing up only for his knees to give out and for both Eudora and Diego to rush forwards to catch him, bringing him back down onto the couch. Diego wasn’t surprised to see that he was unconscious by the time they laid him back down.

So much for getting answers, he thought, and so much for making sure he didn’t have a concussion, although he almost definitely did. Diego watched as Eudora held the ice to his bruised skin for him and tucked his hair over his shoulder, and then she sat down on the floor beside the couch, sighed, and looked to him.

“No interrogating him as soon as he wakes up, please,” she drawled, tone heavy as she gave him a look, and Diego clenched his jaw.

“He’s my _brother_ ,” he defended, but Eudora spoke up before he could continue.

“And he needs you _here_. You’ll be no help going and getting yourself arrested for killing a stranger.” She sighed, looked back down at Klaus. “How about you go and get a change of clothes for him, huh? I can throw what he’s wearing into washing once you get back, and I’ll watch him until then. He’ll be fine for twenty minutes.”

It was nearly impossible to leave Klaus in the state he was in; he couldn’t imagine doing it in any other situation, but of course Eudora was right, and he wouldn’t trust anyone else to stay with him.

With a sigh, Diego nodded and stood up. “Alright,” he uttered, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, okay. I’ll- I’ll be quick.”

Eudora offered a rare smile. “I know,” she said. Diego lingered for a moment longer, watching as she turned her attention back to his brother, and he knew, of course, he would be perfectly fine in Eudora’s more than capable hands, but it was still hard to just turn and walk out. He might have found it easier had Klaus already told him where he could find Robert so that he could take a detour on his way out.

He would do that later, he told himself. Once he knew Klaus was fine, and once he had spoken to him and heard exactly what had happened from Klaus’ own mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely support, I appreciate it:) so here's another instalment that helps fulfil my need for Eudora content.


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